For You Are The Sun (Part 4)
Title: For You Are The Sun (Part 4)
Pairing: Santana/Brittany
Rating: PG-13 (for this chapter)
Summary: AU. Based on Romeo and Juliet. For Santana, all she wants to do is get back at the popular kids for making her life hell ever since she fell out of the popular crowd. But when Brittany enters stage right, it turns out revenge isn't so sweet or easy.
Spoilers: None
Previous Chapters: Part 1; Part 2; Part 3
The next few weeks were torturous for Santana. Glee finally kicked into high gear, school picked up and more significantly, Cheerios practice started getting serious. This meant that Santana had less time to look for Brittany and Brittany had less time to toy with Santana. The precious few hours they had in class was spent segregated, popular kids on one side, unpopular kids on the other. Santana thought about writing notes but blanched at the idea of Tiffany or one of the other cheer bitches intercepting it and reading it aloud. Instead, Santana occupied herself with staring at Brittany out of the corner of her eye, watching her tuck hair behind her ear, watching her elegant fingers scrawl answers on the test page (she did get in trouble for that one, "cheating" the teacher claimed. Santana called it "studying anatomy."). Every now and again, Brittany would look up and their eyes would meet and it gave a whole new meaning to the term "eye sex." Every look that Brittany gave Santana went straight to the Latina's core and she would have to find an excuse to drag Quinn into some dark empty corridor or classroom.
Worse yet, as time went on, Quinn got less and less satisfying. The first few times it was cute and infuriating, Quinn using Brittany's voice to do things to Santana that she wouldn't be too keen on admitting. But after Santana got used to the fact that Quinn was not, in fact, Brittany, sex got a lot less exciting. Santana wanted the real deal, she wanted the dancer's hips pressed against her hips, Santana's lips claiming what was rightfully hers (Santana decided that if Brittany was land, she'd already stuck a flag on it so yes, yes Brittany was hers) and more importantly, hearing the moans of pleasure Santana knew she could deliver.
Still, even when Santana caught Brittany alone, she found that the dancer was always outmaneuvering her. She'd always come within millimeters of Brittany's lips and the blond would duck away, practically giggling. Santana was getting tired of it and she wasn't sure what the hell she was doing wrong. She would always begin to wonder if the girl was worth it, decide to give up and then the dancer would show up out of nowhere, run her fingers down her arms, down her stomach or down her back and Santana's burning desire to take her would return.
And gym was the worst. Santana couldn't stop staring at Brittany. Those shorts were seven kinds of unfair. They cut off high on her thighs, hugged her ass in all the right places and showed off her gorgeous skin. Her legs were a delicious cream color and looked so smooth. When she ran, Santana could see the strong muscles ripple underneath her skin. Her shirt, tied in a knot on the side, rode up on occasion, revealing her flat, toned stomach.
"Santana! Watch out!" Quinn shouted. Santana faced forward only to be hit in the face with a round rubber ball. She was knocked back onto the floor. A loud "oooo" erupted from some of the other players. Across the gym, Azimio high fived Karofsky and Tiffany smiled smugly in the corner, not participating too much.
"Doesn't count! Head shot!" The gym teacher shouted but Santana knew that getting her out wasn't the point. She growled, picked herself off the ground and went for the nearest ball. Just as she reached for it, another hand snatched it up and Santana looked up. Brittany glanced down, winked at her and focused on the target ahead. Her eyes narrowed and every muscle in her body tightened. She pulled her arm back and aimed. Her arm snapped forward and the ball flew across the room at an alarming speed. It hit Azimio right in his reproductive organs and he went down. The whole room went silent.
"Sorry!" Brittany yelled. "I was aiming for the wheelchair kid!" Artie, however, was on the opposite side of the room.
"Jog it off, jog it off." The gym teacher said, wincing. Azimio groaned and picked himself up and hobbled into the locker room. The boys on their side distanced themselves from Brittany, glad to be on the same team. Santana stared at Brittany in awe. The blond brushed back her hair and flashed a small smile in Santana's direction. Santana felt that strange feeling in her chest that she likened to a flutter. Was she having a heart attack? The next ball hit her in the shins and she sat down on the bench next to Quinn.
"I think I'm sick." Santana whispered. "I don't feel so good, my chest feels constricted."
"Oh my god, are you having a heart attack?!"
"Funny." Santana looked at her feet. "Ok, it's gone." She said. She looked up and just as she did, Brittany brushed past her. "Nope, it's back." Quinn's mouth hung open.
"Are you serious?!" Quinn hissed. "Do you really have no idea what's going on?" Santana looked at her quizzically.
"Don't play games with me, Fabray."
"You like her." Quinn continued. "You like Brittany!"
"No I don't." Santana snapped quickly. Quinn couldn't believe it. Santana liked one of the Cheerios, one of them. Quinn had never seen Santana look at another girl with so much want. Santana was clearly taken with this newcomer and she had no idea.
"San! You know she's one of them, right?" Quinn demanded.
"I know!" Santana yelled, causing the whole gym to look at her. She lowered her voice. "I know." Santana had once been popular but now she had no business with that crowd. They were enemies, Santana reminded herself. They made her life now a living hell and consorting with them was stupid, unless it was part of a plan to get back at them.
But thinking it and acting it out were two different things. In the locker, she knew Brittany purposefully walked past her locker in nothing but a bra and underwear, affording a glance at her sculpted stomach, her fine ass and altogether too much skin to have Santana forget. Brittany dropped her shirt on purpose, slowly bending down and picking it up so that Santana stared at the curve of her back as she arched back up. Her eyes trailed Brittany as she headed towards her locker. Santana shut her eyes and imagined the dancer's naked body, glistening with droplets of water as she shoved her up against the locker room showers, their breath heated and humid.
"Stop that!" Quinn hissed. "You're going to get all of us killed." Santana frowned and glared at her.
"Stop nagging me." She snapped and stormed out. She went to the one place where she knew she could have space to think: the choir room. Gym had been their final class of the day and Santana was desperate to get away from noise. Since Glee didn't have practice, the choir room was deserted. She folded her hands and brought them to her lips.
This was not something Santana was used to. Was Tiffany right? Was the only reason she was appealing was her position of power? Santana scoffed but that wasn't what really irritated her. She'd been rejected before, to say or think otherwise was stupid. And she'd had girls play hard to get too. What bothered her was this seemingly new territory Brittany put her in. She was used to controlling the situation. The girls wanted her so she got them. But Brittany kept the distance between them and it was very clear she was in control.
Never mind the nagging feeling in her chest that seemed to pop up whenever she thought about the blond dancer. Santana walked over to the piano and tapped a few keys. She sang along, through any song that popped into her head. It was a good way to take her mind off of things; throw herself into a song and sing at the top of her lungs.
Brittany was just getting out of cheerleading practice. She wanted to stop by the choir room to see if Santana was there. As she approached, she heard Santana's voice drift through the air. Her voice was low and husky as she sang what sounded like Goo Goo Dolls. Brittany peered through the glass panel. Santana was singing to herself. Brittany put her hand on the doorknob, tempted to walk in and join but she decided just to listen. She liked Santana's voice and seeing Santana sing was like seeing a completely different person. The Santana she watched was the real Santana.
The Latina was unaware she had a spectator and when she finished with one song, she launched into the next, playing the piano as she crooned out a soulful ballad. Feeling more confident, she moved from that to pop and eventually even started rapping. She knew she looked ridiculous but it felt good to be goofy once in a while. She heard a laugh from outside and stopped dead. She looked towards the door and caught a glimpse of red and white.
Shit, she thought Cheerios! She rushed out and saw the quickly retreating form of Brittany.
"Hey!" She yelled, chasing after her. She caught up. "Did you see that?" Brittany tried to force a smile down but it was futile. She nodded. Santana saw her reputation slowly dissolving in front of her.
"It was nice." Brittany said quickly, seeing the look on Santana's face. "You have a pretty voice and I got to see a part of you I didn't expect."
"The most embarrassing part ever?" Santana groaned. Brittany tilted her head.
"You're a lot cuter on the inside than I thought." She said. Santana felt ten times smaller. Cute?
"Seriously. Don't tell anyone, please."
"Why does it matter?" Brittany asked.
"Because it'll ruin my reputation." Santana replied in a tone that implied that this was basic knowledge. Brittany did not like being talked down to.
"You're already a gleek." The blond pointed out, causing Santana to wince a little.
"Still, my rep matters." Santana insisted. Brittany's eyes narrowed dangerously.
"Why do you think I'd tell anyone? You're not that important. According to what your reputation anyway." She brushed past Santana coldly. As she neared the door, she turned around.
"You know," She called out. "If you threw away all that crap about your image, maybe people would like you more." Brittany paused. She had almost said, "I would like you more." This brought a wave of realization to the blond. She liked Santana. It wasn't just simply wanting her anymore, she liked her. She wanted Santana to bear her soul to her. She wanted to see all of Santana's personality. This alone was enough to make her rush outside to catch her breath.
Santana stared after her, then down at her feet, her ears burning. She was angry and ashamed, and to vent her frustrations, she kicked a locker, causing it to rattle open.
She did the only thing she knew what to do. She went to Quinn's for some "forgetting sex." Quinn knew better though. AS soon as they finished, Quinn asked.
"So what's up?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about." Santana said, rolling over.
"Bullshit. I know you better than that." Quinn snapped. "This is about Brittany again, isn't it?" Santana stayed silent and Quinn blinked.
"Holy...Santana, you actually like her, don't you?" Quinn asked. Santana stood up and got dressed. "No, don't go. We need to talk about this."
"We don't need to talk about anything." Santana snapped, buttoning up her shirt. She heard the familiar sound of the car pulling into the driveway. Saved, she thought. "I'll see you at school tomorrow." Before Quinn could protest, Santana was out the window and jogging up the street before she knew it. This, Quinn thought, was a problem.
Part 5
Pairing: Santana/Brittany
Rating: PG-13 (for this chapter)
Summary: AU. Based on Romeo and Juliet. For Santana, all she wants to do is get back at the popular kids for making her life hell ever since she fell out of the popular crowd. But when Brittany enters stage right, it turns out revenge isn't so sweet or easy.
Spoilers: None
Previous Chapters: Part 1; Part 2; Part 3
The next few weeks were torturous for Santana. Glee finally kicked into high gear, school picked up and more significantly, Cheerios practice started getting serious. This meant that Santana had less time to look for Brittany and Brittany had less time to toy with Santana. The precious few hours they had in class was spent segregated, popular kids on one side, unpopular kids on the other. Santana thought about writing notes but blanched at the idea of Tiffany or one of the other cheer bitches intercepting it and reading it aloud. Instead, Santana occupied herself with staring at Brittany out of the corner of her eye, watching her tuck hair behind her ear, watching her elegant fingers scrawl answers on the test page (she did get in trouble for that one, "cheating" the teacher claimed. Santana called it "studying anatomy."). Every now and again, Brittany would look up and their eyes would meet and it gave a whole new meaning to the term "eye sex." Every look that Brittany gave Santana went straight to the Latina's core and she would have to find an excuse to drag Quinn into some dark empty corridor or classroom.
Worse yet, as time went on, Quinn got less and less satisfying. The first few times it was cute and infuriating, Quinn using Brittany's voice to do things to Santana that she wouldn't be too keen on admitting. But after Santana got used to the fact that Quinn was not, in fact, Brittany, sex got a lot less exciting. Santana wanted the real deal, she wanted the dancer's hips pressed against her hips, Santana's lips claiming what was rightfully hers (Santana decided that if Brittany was land, she'd already stuck a flag on it so yes, yes Brittany was hers) and more importantly, hearing the moans of pleasure Santana knew she could deliver.
Still, even when Santana caught Brittany alone, she found that the dancer was always outmaneuvering her. She'd always come within millimeters of Brittany's lips and the blond would duck away, practically giggling. Santana was getting tired of it and she wasn't sure what the hell she was doing wrong. She would always begin to wonder if the girl was worth it, decide to give up and then the dancer would show up out of nowhere, run her fingers down her arms, down her stomach or down her back and Santana's burning desire to take her would return.
And gym was the worst. Santana couldn't stop staring at Brittany. Those shorts were seven kinds of unfair. They cut off high on her thighs, hugged her ass in all the right places and showed off her gorgeous skin. Her legs were a delicious cream color and looked so smooth. When she ran, Santana could see the strong muscles ripple underneath her skin. Her shirt, tied in a knot on the side, rode up on occasion, revealing her flat, toned stomach.
"Santana! Watch out!" Quinn shouted. Santana faced forward only to be hit in the face with a round rubber ball. She was knocked back onto the floor. A loud "oooo" erupted from some of the other players. Across the gym, Azimio high fived Karofsky and Tiffany smiled smugly in the corner, not participating too much.
"Doesn't count! Head shot!" The gym teacher shouted but Santana knew that getting her out wasn't the point. She growled, picked herself off the ground and went for the nearest ball. Just as she reached for it, another hand snatched it up and Santana looked up. Brittany glanced down, winked at her and focused on the target ahead. Her eyes narrowed and every muscle in her body tightened. She pulled her arm back and aimed. Her arm snapped forward and the ball flew across the room at an alarming speed. It hit Azimio right in his reproductive organs and he went down. The whole room went silent.
"Sorry!" Brittany yelled. "I was aiming for the wheelchair kid!" Artie, however, was on the opposite side of the room.
"Jog it off, jog it off." The gym teacher said, wincing. Azimio groaned and picked himself up and hobbled into the locker room. The boys on their side distanced themselves from Brittany, glad to be on the same team. Santana stared at Brittany in awe. The blond brushed back her hair and flashed a small smile in Santana's direction. Santana felt that strange feeling in her chest that she likened to a flutter. Was she having a heart attack? The next ball hit her in the shins and she sat down on the bench next to Quinn.
"I think I'm sick." Santana whispered. "I don't feel so good, my chest feels constricted."
"Oh my god, are you having a heart attack?!"
"Funny." Santana looked at her feet. "Ok, it's gone." She said. She looked up and just as she did, Brittany brushed past her. "Nope, it's back." Quinn's mouth hung open.
"Are you serious?!" Quinn hissed. "Do you really have no idea what's going on?" Santana looked at her quizzically.
"Don't play games with me, Fabray."
"You like her." Quinn continued. "You like Brittany!"
"No I don't." Santana snapped quickly. Quinn couldn't believe it. Santana liked one of the Cheerios, one of them. Quinn had never seen Santana look at another girl with so much want. Santana was clearly taken with this newcomer and she had no idea.
"San! You know she's one of them, right?" Quinn demanded.
"I know!" Santana yelled, causing the whole gym to look at her. She lowered her voice. "I know." Santana had once been popular but now she had no business with that crowd. They were enemies, Santana reminded herself. They made her life now a living hell and consorting with them was stupid, unless it was part of a plan to get back at them.
But thinking it and acting it out were two different things. In the locker, she knew Brittany purposefully walked past her locker in nothing but a bra and underwear, affording a glance at her sculpted stomach, her fine ass and altogether too much skin to have Santana forget. Brittany dropped her shirt on purpose, slowly bending down and picking it up so that Santana stared at the curve of her back as she arched back up. Her eyes trailed Brittany as she headed towards her locker. Santana shut her eyes and imagined the dancer's naked body, glistening with droplets of water as she shoved her up against the locker room showers, their breath heated and humid.
"Stop that!" Quinn hissed. "You're going to get all of us killed." Santana frowned and glared at her.
"Stop nagging me." She snapped and stormed out. She went to the one place where she knew she could have space to think: the choir room. Gym had been their final class of the day and Santana was desperate to get away from noise. Since Glee didn't have practice, the choir room was deserted. She folded her hands and brought them to her lips.
This was not something Santana was used to. Was Tiffany right? Was the only reason she was appealing was her position of power? Santana scoffed but that wasn't what really irritated her. She'd been rejected before, to say or think otherwise was stupid. And she'd had girls play hard to get too. What bothered her was this seemingly new territory Brittany put her in. She was used to controlling the situation. The girls wanted her so she got them. But Brittany kept the distance between them and it was very clear she was in control.
Never mind the nagging feeling in her chest that seemed to pop up whenever she thought about the blond dancer. Santana walked over to the piano and tapped a few keys. She sang along, through any song that popped into her head. It was a good way to take her mind off of things; throw herself into a song and sing at the top of her lungs.
Brittany was just getting out of cheerleading practice. She wanted to stop by the choir room to see if Santana was there. As she approached, she heard Santana's voice drift through the air. Her voice was low and husky as she sang what sounded like Goo Goo Dolls. Brittany peered through the glass panel. Santana was singing to herself. Brittany put her hand on the doorknob, tempted to walk in and join but she decided just to listen. She liked Santana's voice and seeing Santana sing was like seeing a completely different person. The Santana she watched was the real Santana.
The Latina was unaware she had a spectator and when she finished with one song, she launched into the next, playing the piano as she crooned out a soulful ballad. Feeling more confident, she moved from that to pop and eventually even started rapping. She knew she looked ridiculous but it felt good to be goofy once in a while. She heard a laugh from outside and stopped dead. She looked towards the door and caught a glimpse of red and white.
Shit, she thought Cheerios! She rushed out and saw the quickly retreating form of Brittany.
"Hey!" She yelled, chasing after her. She caught up. "Did you see that?" Brittany tried to force a smile down but it was futile. She nodded. Santana saw her reputation slowly dissolving in front of her.
"It was nice." Brittany said quickly, seeing the look on Santana's face. "You have a pretty voice and I got to see a part of you I didn't expect."
"The most embarrassing part ever?" Santana groaned. Brittany tilted her head.
"You're a lot cuter on the inside than I thought." She said. Santana felt ten times smaller. Cute?
"Seriously. Don't tell anyone, please."
"Why does it matter?" Brittany asked.
"Because it'll ruin my reputation." Santana replied in a tone that implied that this was basic knowledge. Brittany did not like being talked down to.
"You're already a gleek." The blond pointed out, causing Santana to wince a little.
"Still, my rep matters." Santana insisted. Brittany's eyes narrowed dangerously.
"Why do you think I'd tell anyone? You're not that important. According to what your reputation anyway." She brushed past Santana coldly. As she neared the door, she turned around.
"You know," She called out. "If you threw away all that crap about your image, maybe people would like you more." Brittany paused. She had almost said, "I would like you more." This brought a wave of realization to the blond. She liked Santana. It wasn't just simply wanting her anymore, she liked her. She wanted Santana to bear her soul to her. She wanted to see all of Santana's personality. This alone was enough to make her rush outside to catch her breath.
Santana stared after her, then down at her feet, her ears burning. She was angry and ashamed, and to vent her frustrations, she kicked a locker, causing it to rattle open.
She did the only thing she knew what to do. She went to Quinn's for some "forgetting sex." Quinn knew better though. AS soon as they finished, Quinn asked.
"So what's up?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about." Santana said, rolling over.
"Bullshit. I know you better than that." Quinn snapped. "This is about Brittany again, isn't it?" Santana stayed silent and Quinn blinked.
"Holy...Santana, you actually like her, don't you?" Quinn asked. Santana stood up and got dressed. "No, don't go. We need to talk about this."
"We don't need to talk about anything." Santana snapped, buttoning up her shirt. She heard the familiar sound of the car pulling into the driveway. Saved, she thought. "I'll see you at school tomorrow." Before Quinn could protest, Santana was out the window and jogging up the street before she knew it. This, Quinn thought, was a problem.
Part 5